The Colours of Magic
by thatwriterwhocan'tstop
Summary: Apart from Kill Voldemort, Harry hadn't really had a plan for his adult life. However, it doesn't quite go as he expects. A certain blonde won't leave him alone; and when their jobs mean that they have to work closely together, who knows how long he will survive before either going mad, or punching the pointy git in the face.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Ivory

When Harry passed his final auror exams he didn't expect his first case to be so personal, or take this long. For a couple of months he knew that Ron had had the feeling that the trail was going cold, but Harry still felt that instinct, almost an obsession that told him he had to succeed, he had to bring Lucius Malfoy in. He didn't see Ron staring at him across the desk.

'You're doing it again.'

Harry sighed and pulled himself out of the past, refocusing his eyes on the interview notes he was pretending to read.

'Have you spoken to Ginny yet?'

Once again, Harry sighed. He had forgotten about their arranged floo talk yesterday, and he suspected she had written to Ron and asked him to talk to him.

'No, I sent her an owl when I got back about one this morning. I haven't had a reply.'

'You stayed at work till one?! I thought you had done all the paperwork for that surveillance detail last week?'

'I… missed something out.'

It was a lame excuse and he knew it. He hadn't even been at work, he was sound asleep at number 12 Grimauld place. He didn't think it would go down well if Ginny knew this, he just hadn't felt like talking, and as much as he trusted Ron, he knew he would feel duty bound to tell her. He'd sent Kreacher to get him some Dreamless Sleep Potion and for the first night in weeks, slept without seeing a mane of blonde hair disappearing from view in front of him.

He had personally fought with Lucius at the battle for Hogwarts 6 years ago, and nearly lost. The last thing he had seen before pain numbed his senses to blissful oblivion was Lucius' hair whipping round as he disapperated. He hadn't been seen since. Harry hadn't let his healer at St. Mungoes fully heal the six inch scar running across his chest. He needed a reminder of why he has doing his job, and it kept him grounded. He didn't want to be the perfect hero people tried to cast him as; this was his rebellion.

A knock at the office door snapped him and Ron out of their separate reveries, as Hermione rushed in and shut the door behind her. Harry had not been surprised when Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge had approached Hermione himself to be Minister for Muggle relations, and less surprised when she had accepted before he had even finished his sentence. He watched her carefully, her eyes bright as she twisted the ring Ron had picked out for her around her finger, in what appeared to be a nervous gesture. He knew to just sit and wait, she would say what was on her mind when she was ready, but he couldn't help worrying. A nervous Hermione had never meant good news before.

'It's happened.' She almost whispered, the ghost of a smile appearing at the edges of her mouth.

'What has?' Ron had the same almost smile on his face, and Harry wondered what they had been keeping from him. His worry dissipated as Ron jumped up and kissed her fully, wrapping his arms around her.

When they unwrapped themselves from each other they turned to face Harry, Ron with his arm around Hermione's waist. She clasped her hands around her stomach in a maternal gesture.

'I'm having a baby, we've been trying for ages and it's finally happened!'

Harry too, leapt up, congratulated them both and accepted their invitation to a party at the Burrow. A memo arrived for Hermione, reminding her of her three o'clock appointment with the muggle prime minister and after another hug and kiss on the cheek she left. Ron abandoned the case files he had been annotating and ran out to floo his mother – Harry could hear him telling Kingsley Shacklebolt as he went past. He wondered if he should floo Ginny, it was after 4 so she wouldn't be teaching. But he decided Ron or Hermione should have that privilege and he buried himself in the notes.

It seemed Ron had indeed told Ginny, because not five minutes later a purple ministry memo flew in, informing him he had an incoming call to his office hearth. He didn't have time to wonder why Ron hadn't used it to tell Molly, because Ginny's head appeared. She looked happy enough, but Harry wasn't fooled. She was waiting for an apology and he knew it. He took a deep breath, knelt down and began to speak.

'I'm sorry I missed you yesterday, this case is really import-'

'Really taking over. I know. Look its fine, I just don't really like waiting around for an hour, when I could be marking. I work too you know.'

'Too much to reply to my owl?'

'Well seeing as you sent it at a ridiculous time yes. Look I'm not going to argue with you about this now, I haven't spoken to you in three weeks because you've been so busy working, so let's just be happy for my sister in law ok? I'll see on you Saturday at the Burrow.'

And without waiting for a good bye or saying 'I love you' she was gone.

Harry couldn't stay in the office. Fuming and suddenly struck by claustrophobia, He left his office and set off for the owlery, the only place in the ministry above ground level. Harry liked the owlery, it reminded him of the one at Hogwarts, and the hours he had spent there hiding from Draco and anyone else who wanted to damage him before quidditch matches. Harry frowned as his thoughts turned to Draco Malfoy. He knew that Draco had been cleared by the wizengamot, but old habits die hard. He didn't trust him, and the fact that he had just been given a job at the ministry made him uneasy.

He stepped into the lift and reached over to push the button marked 'owlery.' The doors began to close, but at the last minute a pale hand blocked them. The last person he wanted to see slid through the narrow gap. Trapped and scowling, Harry suddenly found the floor very interesting, staring at it in anti-social silence.

'Potter.'

Draco's familiar drawl set his blood on fire. He didn't need this, not now. He was still fuming after his conversation with Ginny, he didn't want to talk to anyone, let alone the one person whose changeable attitude had caused him so much confusion and anger throughout school.

'Malfoy.'

Malfoy chuckled at Harry's unwelcoming tone.

'Aurors' paranoia got your tongue? You must want to know how I got such a position here. It's a big responsibility being the minister for international trade you know.'

'I really don't care Malfoy, I have better things to be doing than listening to you gloat about how you got off from any sort of punishment after the war. Although I don't really think you should be gloating at me, seeing as I head up the investigation into finding your father.'

Draco stiffened at the sound of his father. Regardless of the fact that they were going in the opposite direction to his office he got out of the lift and stalked away. Harry smiled.

He found Hedwig in the owlery, she clicked her beak at him every time he got too lost in his thoughts and stopped stroking her. He was worried about seeing Molly and Arthur on Saturday, now that Hermione was expecting the question of when he would propose to Ginny would undoubtedly come up. He wasn't ready for that kind of commitment with her, Ginny mostly lived at Hogwarts, only coming home for a week at Christmas and 2 months in the summer. The fire that he had felt for her the first time they kissed during his fifth year was missing as well. When they had sex, Harry did enjoy it, but the last couple of times his mind had wondered, though Ginny didn't notice. She didn't notice much about Harry anymore; He suspected that she did this on purpose, afraid of seeing how disinterested he had become, how dependent on their jobs they were to find something safe to talk about. She would not talk about the war, especially the battle at Hogwarts. The minute anyone mentioned the room of requirements she would leave the room under some pretence. It was because of this heavy taboo around Ginny that Harry felt alienated from her. It had nothing to do with what had happened in the place where everything is hidden that night. At least this is what Harry told himself.

Molly Weasley had opened the door before Harry could even raise his clenched fist to knock. She enveloped him in a warm hug before, as ever, deciding he needed feeding up. Ron and Hermione were already sat in the kitchen when Harry walked in, talking quietly and laughing. The obvious mutual adoration made Harry smile, it was nice to see them so close and easy with each other after years of awkward bickering. Their wedding had been a simple affair – Hermione looked stunning in a simple white dress, while Ron stood uncomfortably in a grey suit. Harry could've sworn he had heard Ron mutter 'Monkey suit' as he fiddled with his collar at the altar. Hermione had wanted to get married in the small church in her village, making the ceremony fairly plain. Then, just as with Bill and Fleur's, and George and Angelina's weddings, they returned to the burrow for the reception. It had been a happy evening, marred only by an argument with Ginny about Harry's reaction to a drunken comment from George about it being their turn next.

As evening moved towards night and the festivities quietened down Harry found himself carefully avoiding Ginny's gaze. He wasn't sure why, but he thought it had something to do with the sly looks he had been getting from various members of the Weasley family. He put his half-finished bowl of treacle tart down and slipped out into the paddock at the back of the house. Vivid orange snap dragons swayed towards him, searching for something to hold onto. He brushed past them and sat on a tree stump, listening to the ever present gnomes rustle about looking for caterpillars to play with. The moon shone brightly, making the white petals of Molly's hydrangeas shine like beacons of calm in the cool dark. Blossom floated down over Harry's head from Fred's remembrance tree in the far corner of the paddock. In the summer its long branches formed a quiet shelter from the glaring sun, a favourite place to doze and talk away from prying eyes. A soft movement caught Harry's eye. Ginny's hair had been lifted by the gentle breeze, it flowed around her face, almost glowing, appearing to light up the space around her. He should have found her beautiful, he knew that. She looked sad, as she searched his face for something. Harry could never have expected the ultimatum this delicate, gentle girl was about to deliver.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Emerald

The memo from Neville scraped against the Harry's palm as he read and re-read it. New information after all this time. Why Neville had waited so long to tell him this; Harry couldn't fathom it. Patient-healer confidentiality had loopholes for top level auror investigations, and this was a top level case. Harry didn't wait for Ron to arrive so he could tell him about Neville's carefully worded memo – things had been awkward between them since he had caught Harry and Ginny screaming at each other in the paddock after the party. Harry left him a terse note and jumped into the fire place yelling 'Ward 11 fireplace, St Mungoes Hospital', as bright green flames exploded around him.

Neville was waiting for him, nervously tapping his thigh with his wand while the portraits of ancient healers diagnosed him over and over again. He had learnt to tune them out, but it was still disconcerting to be told he had incurable jelly legs, and needed to stand in pickled salamander brains to subdue the symptoms. They hugged, old camaraderie coming to surface and Neville told him the 'slight glitches' he had mentioned in his memo.

'She was brought in about four years ago. According to the Malachi, the house elf, she had given him any orders for over a year – we took that to mean she hadn't spoken, and we were right. She refuses to make eye contact with anyone, and we haven't been able to get her to eat solid food either. She won't open her mouth at all. Full body sensors told us there's nothing wrong with her mouth, she's not been cursed, and she's not being controlled. She just sits there.'

'Do family come to visit her?' Harry couldn't bring himself to say his name.

'No. The few who are left anyway. Her only visitor is Malachi, but we're going to have to stop him soon. He doesn't know what to do anymore, so when he thinks he's done something wrong he comes here, to punish himself in front of her. Its bizarre! She won't let go of her wand either – not even when she's asleep. She's got a grip like a goblin that woman.'

Harry remembered how tightly Griphook had held onto the Sword of Godric Gryffindor when he had locked them inside Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. The look on his face as the door had slammed shut, sealing them in. the look of vindictive triumph was still on his face when Voldemort had rampaged through Gringotts, freezing it there permanently with a flash of blinding green light. Harry knew the strength in a Goblin's grip. It had taken all his and Ron's combined efforts to get it.

'Harry? Are you alright?'

Neville's voice brought him rushing back to present, and Harry breathed out. He hadn't noticed he was holding his breath. He rubbed his scar out of unnecessary habit, and walked through the door Neville was holding open for him.

Narcissa Malfoy sat in a chair looking out towards the window. The glazed expression on her face told Harry she wasn't appreciating the view. She had once been cold, beautiful and proud. Now her hair hung limply around her hunched shoulders, her hands folded protectively in her lap. A cracked bowl of untouched fruit stood on her bed side table. The rest of the patients on the long stay ward (the death eater who had fallen into the time-dome in the department of mysteries in Harry's fifth year, a wizard with a dog's head, and a veela with feather-rot) had a sense of homeliness in their bays, get well soon cards and plants littered the surfaces, blankets and pyjamas from relatives. Narcissa sat in hospital issue robes, with only the cracked bowl as a sign that anyone cared. Interestingly, Harry did not find it difficult to pity her. As much as he loathed her husband and argued with her son, he could not bring himself to remember the pain she had caused him personally. He remembered she had saved his life, and maybe that was what made him feel a sense of duty and protection towards her.

He sat with her for nearly two hours. There were a number of non-magic methods of coaxing a traumatised person to talk, Harry didn't want to over face her and decided the best way to treat her would be to visit once a week, using a different method each time until she responded to one. If she didn't, he would have to get permission from Amelia Bones and Fudge to use non-threatening magic without her permission.

Often in these situations Harry became so focused on the person in front of him he forgot his surroundings. A shout made him jump in seat, he lost his thread of conversation and turned slowly around as his brain finally recognised the source of the noise. Draco pulled Harry out of his chair and pinned him up against the wall; snarling, his wand hovering over Harry's heart. Harry had fought with Malfoy before, but he had never seen such possessive anger. His cheeks were flushed and he was visibly shaking.

'Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you have the right to talk my mother like that? Haven't you put her through enough? You're leaving, right now. Don't even think about coming back.' Draco yelled at him, spit exploding out of his mouth.

Harry knew to stay calm, explain his rights as an auror, but this was Malfoy. The boy who'd insulted his parents memory at every opportunity, whose father had worked for the man responsible for their deaths, the boy who in their sixth year had let death eaters into the castle, watched Albus Dumbledore die, but then had led harry into the room of requirements at the battle of Hogwarts. Shown him the Diadem, among other things. All of Harry's confusion and anger boiled up inside him, exploding out of him just as the dragon they had on had exploded out of Gringotts. Shock registered on Malfoy's face as he saw the danger in Harry's emerald eyes, and before he could part his lips to utter any form of defence a flash of red light burst out of the end of Harry's wand.

He was thrown backwards, throwing whatever hexes came to mind in Harry's general direction as he crashed painfully into the wall on the other side of the room. A swift 'Protego' stopped either of them doing any more harm, but Malfoy struggled against it, unable to think of anything other than the git he could see across the room, also struggling against the shield charm. A scream began to echo around the room, unrelenting, filled with agony and fear. Draco stopped struggling, feeling his heart strings pull and start to choke him as his mother sat, screaming so agonisingly. He was powerless, still held by the shield charm. He cried out and stretched his arm as far as the shield would allow. It disappeared and he fell face first to the cool floor. A thud nearby told him Potter had just done the same thing. He scrambled to his feet and knelt in front of his screaming mother, placing his hands on either side of her face, whispering soothing words of comfort. But she would not be comforted. Narcissa Malfoy screamed and wretched in her screaming but could not be stopped. It was heart breaking for Draco, he hated Potter for causing this, hated his father for doing this to his mother, hated himself for being unable to help her. A team of healers and mediwizards burst through the doors, then tried to prise Malfoy of his mother. He fought them as hard as he could, he didn't want to let go. A flash of red light hit his side and he slid unconscious back to the floor.

Harry stood up slowly. He felt a body search spell wash over him, a mediwizard checking him for injuries. He shook his head and left. Neville was going to kill him.

Sirius had Kreacher bring in some elf made wine, then sat back and waited. He didn't have to wait long before began to speak.

'Narcissa Malfoy is in St. Mungoes. She has been for four years.' Harry took a deep breath and explained everything, from the memo to the fight with Malfoy. Sirius didn't say anything, didn't even react except for his eyes widening when Harry had told him about the screaming. Then, with a heavy sigh Harry told him about the shouting match in the paddock with Ginny.

Now Sirius reacted. He coughed uncomfortably, he looked embarrassed.

'I know about the argument between you and Ginny. She came here after you disapperated. She was really upset Harry, I wasn't about to take sides. Don't look at me like that, you have to see that you have been neglecting her lately.' Sirius paused, unsure whether he could say more, or if he should shut up before more family heirlooms got broken. After one look at Harry's reddening face, he stuck with the latter. The two men faced each other in a terse silence. After several minutes Harry leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a ball of blue fluff all but knocked him off his seat – Teddy Lupin had realised Uncle Harry was home. Since Sirius had been cleared following Wormtail's capture, he had not wanted to go back to Grimauld Place. He had given it to Harry and with the compensation from the ministry, moved into a small but luxurious cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole. It was secluded from village life, which made it easy for Teddy to practice controlling his metamorphagus phases without having to obliviate the neighbours. He was getting better; he liked his hair best when it was blue, but turned it black to match Sirius and Harry whenever they went out. His only set back was his tendency to turn his hair to flames and his eyes black when he got angry.

'God Teddy you look like a parrot! Green eyebrows this week – have they gone mouldy? Don't look at me with those – what colour are your eyes supposed to be?!'

'Heliotrope. With Malachite.' Teddy grinned widely, showing perfect teeth. He loved it when Uncle Harry didn't know colours, it was his favourite game.

'Right, well don't you look at me with those helicopter and marmite eyes young man!' laughed harry, playing up to Teddy's expectations.

'Tomorrow I'm gonna make them amaranth and cosmic latte. Or maybe one tope, one indigo. Or hyacinth and turquoise, or tangerine and azure. I haven't decided yet.'

'The coffee one sounds good. Why don't you look in the third pocket on the left side of my travelling cloak and see what's in there?'

Harry couldn't help but forget his worries as his already over-excited godson shrieked and pulled an electric blue pygmy puff out of Harry's pocket.

'What are you going to call him Teddy? One of your colours?'

'How about stupid pet for a six year old? Stupid for short.' Sirius shook his long hair and grinned. Of course it would be Harry to bring Teddy a _pygmy puff_ of all stupid pets. He wasn't about to step in and be the sensible one though, Harry and Teddy had some sort of bond that he would never understand.

'I think I'm going to call him Lapis Lazuli. Lappy for short! He's sitting on my shoulder! Maybe I should call him Cobalt blue, like the blue parrots! Cobalt! He likes it. Thanks Uncle Harry!'

Teddy gave his godfathers a hug each, and then turned his hair the exact shade of blue as Cobalt's and ran out giggling. Harry wasn't ready to face Sirius' lectures again after making Teddy so happy, so he just gave him a resigned smile and went back to the office.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three: crimson

Harry had lost track of time. He stood staring off the balcony outside the ministry owlery, hearing only the soft stirring and coos of the resting owls. He tried not to think that the streaks of red in the setting sun reminded him of magical flashes as him and Malfoy had fought earlier in the week. He had taken precautions the next time he had gone to visit Narcissa, and got away before anyone caught him there. It didn't occur to him that Malfoy would have put up wards of his own. A movement behind him caught his attention, he spun round.

'Thought I'd find you here Potter.' Draco sneered and moved out of the dark owlery onto the cool balcony.

'If you're here for round two I'm not interested Malfoy. Although it would be fun to kick your ass, again.'

'Fun as it would be to see you try I just came to warn you. I thought I told you to stay away Potter? You never were any good at listening to your superiors though were you?'

'Who made you minister for magic? I'm an Auror Malfoy; I have to do my job whether you want me too or not.'

'Whatever Potter, just keep your filthy hands away from my mother, I'd hate for her to get any leftover blood traitor germs from that weasel girlfriend of yours.' Harry could hear the smirk in Malfoy's voice. He should have known better.

'Shut the fuck up ferret. Just shut the FUCK UP.'

Both men didn't even bother getting their wands out. They launched themselves at each other, pulling hair, punching, scratching. Harry saw stars as Malfoy smacked his head into the floor, heard himself knock the air out Draco's lungs when he punched him in the stomach. They were both aching, but neither wanted to admit defeat. With a snarl of defiance Draco got Harry in a choke hold, putting him up against the wall. Red light danced across his pupils as Draco squeezed his neck, then as suddenly as the pressure had started it stopped. Unable to move Harry stood there drawing in raspy breaths. Draco laughed.

'If I didn't know any better I'd say you were defending your weasel. Everyone knows how pissed she is with you. There's even a bet going round about how long you'll last before, well you don't need to know.'

Harry didn't even try to speak. He just stood there. He knew him and Ginny couldn't last. His heart wasn't in it and now it seemed everyone knew. He found himself pushed up against the wall, not roughly, but gently. Lips pressed against his own. Harry froze. Of all the tortures Malfoy could have inflicted on him he hadn't expected _this_. He waited for the lips to stop moving against his own, for Malfoy to pull away and laugh at his confusion; but he didn't. Draco moved his hands down onto Harry's hips. He gave an involuntary shudder and slowly found himself kissing back. Sliding his hands out of Draco's grasp to tangle them in that soft, blonde hair. He felt Draco respond, pushing up against Harry, moving to stand in between his legs. This new kind of pressure was too much for Harry. He pulled back, breathing heavily. Draco was staring at him, his pale eyes bright and excited. No malice, just excitement. He felt a hand slide down from his hips and cup him gently. The reaction was immediate, involuntary. He shuddered, and pulled Draco back to him, biting his lower lip teasingly. The hand on his crotch began to work the button at the top of his jeans.

Harry was very suddenly aware of the situation. He gave a strangled gasp, pushed Draco away from him and disapperated.

This was too much. Harry could barely think. He stumbled in to Grimauld Place. He threw off his cloak and tried to ignore his throbbing erection. He would not succumb. For the next few hours Harry sat on the floor of the dark drawing room, nursing a bottle of firewhisky. Sat in his sorry state Harry did not expect the fire place to light up a blinding green, causing him to slump sideways in shock. Then her head was looking at him sceptically as he lay, groaning on the floor. Ginny wrinkled her nose in disgust.

'You're drunk.'

'You... You're green.' Harry tried and failed to sit up, so gave up and lay pathetically on his side.

'What happened to your face?!'

'Draco Malfoy happ-'

'I changed my mind. I don't want to know. I hope you haven't forgotten you're coming to Hogwarts for careers week next month.'

Whether it was boiling over frustrations, or the alcohol, Harry did not know. He just found himself attacking the taboo Ginny had put around herself, without thought or mercy.

'Hey! Don't you go changing the subject! I had a fight with Draco Malfoy! You should be listening to me… not avoiding talking about the war! Dumbledore wouldn't approve. You don't know what happened in the room of… of… requirement! Not really. You only know what you saw. You didn't see anything! That was nothing! Nothin… I sound like Hagrid! We should go see him Gin, you and me together like we're not now. And you should stop being so mad all the time, I don't like talking to you-' he pulled a face, imitating her.

'I don't like talking about anything, I don't care how other people feel, I didn't get to fight Voldemort cause I was too young, I didn't get to say bye to Fred so I'm not going to talk about it waah waah waah…'

He trailed off. The hurt look on her face began to sober him, but harry did not try to apologise. That would be even more stupid than the rant he had just gone on. He got up and shakily left the room. He knew he'd gone too far, but without a time turner he couldn't exactly take back what he had said. Before, he could have gone to Hermione, but she was pregnant and finally happy he didn't feel he could. It would be inappropriate. Harry sighed and went to bed.

Harry was woken up entirely too early for his liking by a tawny owl screeching outside his bedroom window. He pulled his glasses on, and let what he recognised as Minerva's owl in. There was a short note tied to the owl's leg. It read:

"_Professor Minerva McGonagall head mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry invites Auror Harry Potter to tea._

_Harry,_

_I would be very interested to know why Professor Weasley has locked herself in her quarters, and is unable to teach. I would also like to discuss the arrangements for careers week with you. I expect you this afternoon, if you are unable to meet me send a reply with Aristo._

_Thanks, _

_Minerva_

He yawned, let Aristo go and got in the shower. Harry stood letting the hot water loosen his muscles. For the first time since it had happened he let his mind wander to the balcony outside the owlery. Eyes closed, with his forehead leaning against the damp tiles Harry remembered the feeling of Draco's lithe body pressed up against his, the tingles that ran down his spine when their lips met. Before he knew what he was doing Harry felt himself go hard, he reached down and wrapped one wet hand around it. The mental images of him and Draco grew wilder and wilder as he took out his frustrations on himself. Sweet release freed him from the mental torture, and Harry cleaned himself, got dressed, and took the floo to Hogwarts.

Minerva McGonagall appraised Harry once he had stepped out of the fireplace. She took one look at the expression on his face and swept him into a much needed hug, before conjuring an ornate tea set and getting out her infamous tin of ginger newt biscuits.

'Sit. Ginger newt?' Harry couldn't help but smile at the familiar tone in her voice. He sat and accepted a biscuit.

'Potter, I don't know what's been going on with you these last few months, but whatever it is it's not good for you. Miss Weasley did not tell me what you had done to upset her so much, but I will tell you this: an apology is not going to be enough. You need to be there for her Harry, you may have had more to do with the war but that doesn't mean she isn't hurt by it.'

Minerva paused, unsure what to say next. She had expected Harry to at least argue back, defend his pride as he used to; but he just sat there, looking as though he wanted to drown himself in the mug of tea he was staring into. She took advantage of the silence to study the man whom she still thought of as the scrawny eleven year old who had attracted trouble like a magnet. His eyes were a dull emerald; there was a slight frown in his expression. His mouth turned down at the edges, as they always had when he was deep in thought. Settling comfortably in her chair, Minerva waited. She knew Harry would speak when he wanted to.

Harry was lost in his memories. He had been thinking about the same few select memories since his encounter on the balcony. These were memories he had banished to the darkest parts of his mind, but now they were all he could think about.

The last game of the Quidditch season in his fifth year had been one of the hardest Harry had ever played. It had rained torrentially all day and the tension was palpable. Of course Gryffindor had won, but Angela Johnson, George Weasley and Marcus Flint had all ended up in the hospital wing with nasty bludger wounds. Harry had stayed in the showers long after everyone else had gone; he wasn't really in the mood for over exuberant celebrations in the Gryffindor common room. He sat on the floor letting the hot water relax him, it pounded in his ears blocking out any sounds. When Malfoy, of all people, walked in, and stood facing away from him, Harry had just ignored him. He went to grab a towel and go into the locker room. Malfoy still didn't acknowledge Harry's presence, he leant against the wall, and it looked like he was _crying._ Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and went over to him.

'Malfoy?'

'Don't laugh at me Potter. Just don't.'

'I wasn't going to, I just… are you alright?'

'Why do you care? No one understands, so don't bother.'

Harry didn't know what came over him. He reached out and put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. He tensed. Seconds passed like hours, but then Malfoy surprised himself and leant into the contact. It felt strange, being comforted by the one he usually avoided. How many times had he imagined this kind of casual touch from Potter? And now it was happening he didn't know what to do, he had always imagined it had led to something more – could he risk it?

It was as if Harry had read his mind. He wrapped both arms around Draco's waist from behind and held him there, revelling in the way Draco leant back into him. He hesitated, just momentarily, breathing in the unfamiliar smell of Draco's hair. Then he made up his mind and made his move. Harry leaned around and lightly kissed Draco's cheek. Draco span round and looked at him in a way Harry had never been looked at like before.

'I don't think I love Ginny anymore.' Harry winced at how final it sounded. Minerva sighed inwardly.

'How long have you thought that?'

'I don't know. I can't talk to her about anything anymore. I avoid her when she calls because conversation is so difficult. Its like the war never happened with her.' He sighed in frustration.

'Maybe you should take some time off work Harry.' Minerva suggested gently. 'You've thrown yourself into work, and abandoned your personal life. Why don't you go and stay with Sirius and Teddy for a while? Just take some time.'

'Time to do what? I can't just do _nothing_ Minerva. You know I don't work like that. There are people like Lucius Malfoy still free. I'll take some time when he's been left to the dementors.' Harry scoffed and walked out. Straight into Ginny Weasley.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four: Light Plum

Draco sat in the last carriage of the Hogwarts Express with his head in Blaise Zabini's lap. Pansy and her girlfriend Isla were sat in a similar position on the opposite side of the carriage. Draco had bewitched the door and curtains to make sure they were left alone. As far as the rest of the Slytherins were concerned Draco and Pansy were going out, and Blaise and Isla were definitely flirting. It didn't do them any harm not knowing the truth.

Draco smiled distractedly while Blaise ran his hands through his hair. Blaise knew exactly how to turn him to an incoherent pile of mush. The light sensation of fingers brushing his silky platinum hair wasn't enough to turn him on, just enough to make him relax completely. The fingertips trailing down his neck however, were definitely a danger. Draco slowly, and with purpose, licked his upper lip. Blaise shifted, making Draco smile predatorily. Knowing that his smallest movement could provoke _such_ a reaction was such a turn on for Draco; his smile widened. A glance towards Pansy and Isla told him that they were occupied enough not to notice anything, but he cast a muffliato in their direction all the same. If they happened to look across, which was a risk, although an unlikely one, well… he could always obliviate them if they asked nicely enough.

Having cast the charm silently; and with Blaise having closed his eyes contentedly; Draco knew that Blaise wouldn't know what he had in mind. Ever so slowly he pulled Blaise's baggy school robe open, undid his trousers and wrapped his hand around the other boy's length through the silk of his boxers. At this, Blaise snapped his eyes open and glanced at the girls. Also noticing their preoccupation he looked down at the predatory grin on Draco's face and shifted once more in his seat to give the blonde better access. Slowly, inch by inch Draco pulled his boxers down.

'Oi! Malfoy!'

I snap back to my spacious office in the ministry. That gruff greeting that shook me out of my, ahem, day dream would be none other than Potter. So he wants to talk about last night does he? Well I don't. It was just a lapse in concentration. Totally. Like all the other times, especially that time in the room of requirement. I did not plan that. Oh fuck it. For an arsehole he is incredibly attractive. And slow, gorgeously slow. Took him forever to work out that I wasn't accidently brushing against him at every opportunity when I showed him that creepy diadem.

He's not walking that quickly, I'm sure I can make it round the corner of the office and go through the bookcase to next door.

'Running away ferret?'

Bugger. Potter catches my arm and pulls it so I have no choice but to face him. For a moment I just look him, he's adorable when he's angry. Right from when we were kids I loved to piss him off, anything to set those eyes on fire. It's always been my favourite game. Shaking my head clear of sparkling green eyes and the musky smell of the room of requirement I attempt to listen to the rant he's saying so passionately.

'-Never have happened! First you cock up my assignment with your mother- don't look at me like that! It was your bloody fault! Screamed the bloody place down! And what in the name of Merlin's saggy left testicle did you think you were doing last night? I'm not gay for Christ's sake! Stupid arrogant ferret prick. Kingsley is majorly pissed off with me thanks to you. And Gin, well don't even bloody go there. Fucking hell. Bloody mess this is. And don't even get me started on this international stock melt down – one cock up that wasn't even my fault and they want to send me with YOU of all people to bloody Germany for Merlin knows how lo-'

Wait, WHAT? I can't keep up the look of disdain anymore, this deserves my attention.

'Potter. POTTER. For god's sake man shut up! Back up – Germany? What's happening in Germany? Why are we being sent together? And since when did you say 'Merlin's saggy left testicle?' it sounds like something Dean Thomas used to say. Why don't you keep your knickers on and tell me what the shit is going on with Germany?'

'Oh. Right. Umm. Well because of the fiasco at the hospital, I've been given all the shitty jobs. I'm surprised they didn't tell you actually, it's your department, but a load of German Products bound for England have been sabotaged – a wand wood warehouse was burned down, a potions ingredients shipment stolen – that kind of thing. But Germany isn't losing any money, so someone somewhere is paying a lot for this. So relations between us and the German ministry are a bit tense, and well…'

Potter trailed off awkwardly. He had been gesticulating to establish each point, but now he knotted his fingers together distractedly. I waited for him to continue but he didn't, he stood there cracking his knuckles.

'Oh for Merlin's sake potter stop cracking your knuckles like the awkward loser you are and spit it out man!'

A pathetic insult I know… but I really hate it when people crack their knuckles.

He blinked behind his smeared glasses and then spoke in a rush, his words falling over each other, as though someone had a tongue-twisting hex on him.

'They have reason, well not reason, but reason to umm well Malfoy, your Lucius GAH! Your dad might be involved but they have to well they don't have to but they do, um send you but not alone in case well they were wrong so I have to go with you. 'Cause I'm an auror. Well not just for that reason. Not that you need to know anyway.'

More knuckle cracking and anxious lack of eye contact followed.

'Fuck.'

Great. Dear father might be funding Germany's underworld, it's my job to investigate but because he created me they don't trust me to go alone and so are sending Potter with me. Fucking marvellous. How did he know about this before me? There was that important looking memo on top my in tray when I got to my office this morning… but I got distracted. Fuck, he's talking again and I haven't noticed.

'-Careers week at Hogwarts but we leave as soon as I get back from that. And as for that bet you mentioned about me?'

Harry couldn't bring himself to say Ginny's name.

'I wouldn't worry about losing. So whatever you were trying to do last night – there's no point. I've fucked things up enough on my own.'

He turned and left. Of all the things he could have said, he mentioned that stupid bet. I don't even know if its real, I just heard Cormac and Romilda joking about it a while back. He doesn't usually go for the subliminal messages method when he's trying to say something, so what is he up to? Never mind. I'm just being too much of a Slytherin, over thinking.

Harry waited nervously for Draco to react. He had surprised himself, kissing the blonde boy's cheek like that. He didn't know what had made him do it; but he couldn't, and really didn't want, to take it back. So he just stood there, arms still loosely wrapped around Draco, listening to the steamy water pour down onto the smooth floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, Draco twisted round in Harry's arms, looked at him carefully for a moment, then softly placed his pale hands on either side of Harry's face and kissed him gently on the lips. They drew closer together, exploring each other with tender kisses. For the first time Draco _felt_ something, and it wasn't teenage lust. He wasn't reacting like that, he wasn't hard - he felt relaxed. He deepened the kiss, moving his hands round to knot in Harry's wet hair. Harry responded by placing one hand on the side of Draco's neck, then trailing the other to rest at the bottom of his back.

They broke slightly apart, and leant their foreheads together. Harry smiled shyly, and brushed a stray lock of Draco's hair to the side.

'We should go before our friends come looking for us.' He whispered.

'Please don't-'

'I won't tell anyone. I promise.'

At that, both boys smiled at each other, dried and dressed themselves then left, walking in opposite directions without looking back.

Why I was thinking about the first time Potter and I had realised we don't hate each other, I don't know. Potter has fucked off to Hogwarts, to his weasel-girl so he can talk to snotty nosed brats about becoming an auror. I sound defensive even to myself. He fascinates me; he is the antithesis to me, with his untamed hair, open nature, irrational yet logical way of thinking. If I hadn't had certain issues during our sixth year at school I may have even gotten to love him. But I couldn't, I was too closely watched. I had to keep up the appearance of hatred, do as I was told to spare my Mother from mindless violence. I think Father knew, but for some unfathomable reason he kept it to himself. Perhaps his feelings towards me aren't as cold as I so readily assume.

Whilst waiting for Potter to return from his little trip I tried to find out what is happening with the saboteurs. For the last day or two they have been inactive, but that worries me more than when they were happily burning things. It feels like they are planning something. From Potter's inarticulate bumbling I figured money was a large issue with this, and as it turns out large sums have been going missing from Father's private account at Gringotts. I only was able to find this out because one of the goblins owes me a favour, but then again, apart from Mrs Hermione Weasley, who doesn't owe me a favour?

I returned home from the ministry to find a letter bearing the Hogwarts seal waiting for me, held tightly by Cobble, my house elf.

'Master Draco sir, you're home late sir, pardon me for interrupting you sir, but there's a Mr. Potter waiting to speak urgently with you in the drawing room fire, been there for an hour or so he has. Says he won't go till you've spoke to him sir.'

Typical.

'Alright Cobble, I'll take that letter. I'll have dinner in forty minutes, if I'm not done with Potter by then you may leave it on a tray in my bedroom.'

The elf bowed low and with a loud 'crack' disappeared off to the kitchen. I turned into the lounge of my flat (Cobble refuses to call it that, he still likes to call everything as he would in the Manor.) and looked tiredly at the angry looking head sticking out of my fireplace.

'What are you doing in my private floo network? And how long have you been there?'

'Minerva gave me access. I know you go across sometimes to help teach potions with Padma, and nearly an hour and a half. Your house elf is very efficient; kept giving me biscuits. Look I really need to speak to you-'

'If this is about my Father's private vault, I already know. Oh and Hermione wants to know why you've been avoiding her. What the hell did you tell Minerva to get her to let you access my network?'

'It's not just his vault, we've finally got some sort of trace of his magical signature, but its very weak. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I just said it was to do with the Germany case.'

For some reason he looked a bit shifty, and I wonder if he had made that mistake of letting Minerva ask him direct questions, then look her in the eyes. That woman has a habit of getting you to tell her more than you want to, a bit like old Dumbledore used to. If he hadn't been bent I would have sworn they were married or something.

'So what did you want to say that is of such vital importance that you waited for over an hour in my fireplace? It can't be just about my dear ol' dad.'

'...I… did I say that? I just thought you ought to know about your father. Bye.'

'Potter stop talking out of your arse- Potter!'

Bloody infuriating that cretin! Probably wanted to tell me he's marrying the weasel or something overly Gryffindork. I sit down on the sofa and open the letter, its from Professor Weasley. In places the writing is almost impossible to read, but I get the general idea. The chill I feel contrasts the heat left in the room by the floo.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five: Emerald Green

**Hello, it's the rather stupid author here. I am crap at Author's Notes, so there won't be many, but I thought I owed you one. This has already taken me over a year to get to where I am (CH8), and I'm in the middle of exams but I'm doing my level best! I am running out of colours, any ideas just message me! Sorry if the breaks are a bit confusing, still working out the kinks :3 Hope you like it so far, feedback would be amazing! xx**

Harry took a step back and winced internally. Ginny looked awful – her hair was pulled back in a greasy ponytail, he eyes puffy and blotched. She was wearing what he recognised as one of his 'Weasley' sweaters, this one looked to be the one Molly gave him in his sixth year at Hogwarts – it was red with a broomstick on the front.

He wasn't sure how to greet his girlfriend, but he was saved by her leaning up against the opposite wall to him, her arms folded. She sniffed, wiped her nose on the sleeve of his sweater and sighed brokenly.

'Gin, I'm sorry. I was drunk, I know things haven't been good for a while, I haven't exactly tried very hard but that's no excuse. We can work through this can't we?'

'I don't know Harry, do you actually want to? You may have been drunk, but there was some truth to what you said. If you can even remember what you said.'

'I… well… it's been a tough few months.'

Ginny's question, and his conversation with Minerva made Harry think. Did he want to carry on seeing Ginny? So much had happened in the last week, and there was so much more to come. He didn't want to break it off with her, without even trying to make up for his drunken rant. Ginny sighed again, looking as if she had made a decision.

'I have marking to do and lessons to plan, I can't expect Luna to keep covering for me. Just think about what I said, ok Harry?'

'Ok.'

Harry spent his spare time over the next week catching up with old friends and revisiting his childhood places. He was sure that George would be pleased to know that yet another generation of students now knew about the secret passage behind the one-eyed witch, and how to get into the kitchens through the ticklish portrait of the pear. Most of his evenings he spent with Hagrid, and occasionally Luna, whose official title was junior grounds keeper and care of magical creatures assistant.

He had found out, from a much aged Hagrid that Grawp had taken a few too many punches from the other giants working for Voldemort at the Battle for Hogwarts, and didn't recognise Hagrid at all. Luna was the only person who could get Grawp to eat and say his alphabet, which was slowly getting better.

It was on his way back from Hagrid's hut that he decided that the situation with Ginny had to change, and with Gryffindor determination he went up to her quarters to sort it out.

He knocked on the door.

'Harry.' Ginny more sighed than spoke his name, but there was enough hope in her eyes for the both of them.

'Look, I've been a total prat and I've had enough of tiptoeing around all of this so why don't we have a drink and sort this out?'

Ginny opened the door and they sat in front the fire, both painfully aware of each other.

'About what you said last weekend, I think you're wrong. I can't be… gay. It was probably just a phase, or a hex or potion or something. If I was gay then I would never have gone out with you would I?'

'Draco went out with Pansy.'

'And?' Ginny couldn't help but smile at the evident confusion behind his smudged glasses.

'Harry, Malfoy is gay. Really gay. Him and Blaise were definitely shagging in sixth year!'

It was good to see Ginny smiling and even laughing slightly, so he laughed along, but his stomach started doing back flips. How could he not have seen it? The showers, the room of requirement, the owlery… it wasn't just Malfoy being a dickhead, trying to ruin his life, Malfoy could possibly have a crush on him.

'But what about Astoria, I thought they were supposed to be getting married?'

'They broke it off – he came out, but was still willing to marry her for family duty. Then she decided that she couldn't live a lie and moved to America – last I heard she was dating some rich German alchemist. She was a bit embarrassed after it hit the papers – Rita called her a 'Fag Hag' and said she must have been frigid, how else could she not have known? I guess the new guy doesn't read the social section of British newspapers!'

'German did you say? He doesn't happen to specialise in fiendfyre does he?'

'I don't know! Why?'

Harry realised that it probably would kill the light mood if he related it to work, he shrugged.

'She probably wanted someone a bit warmer than the Ice King, that's all.'

They laughed. Ginny moved closer to him, testing his reactions. Harry didn't move back, but he didn't lean in either. She tilted her face up to his and kissed him. Harry froze. She kissed him again, she tasted like hope and… family. Not passionate or inviting. She pulled back, defeat written on her face.

'What's wrong?'

'…I…it… it doesn't feel right.'

'Why not? What did I do wrong?' tears formed in her eyes, making her look small and helpless.

'It's not you-oh crap.' _It's me_. Harry realised he couldn't kid himself any longer. They were over. He needed to talk to Draco, now.

Harry stayed as long as was polite, and then making an excuse about needing to see Luna about helping him with his next presentation to the fifth years, he left. Remembering the password to Draco's private floo, he took the stairs two at a time to his room, lit the fire with a quick _incendio_, threw in the glittering green floo powder and said:

'Draco Malfoy's lounge, _Draco dormiens.'_

The flames roared emerald, and with a deep breath, Harry stuck his head into Draco's living room.

Draco looked at him, a mixture of amusement, curiosity and surprise on his chiselled features.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?' he drawled.

'Why did you and Astoria break up?'

'I don't think that's any of your business Potter, didn't you read about in the papers like the rest of Britain?'

'No what I mean is, was she mad at you?'

'I was nothing but a perfect gentleman towards her, but I imagine she might not put me on her Christmas card list. What's this about Potter?'

'She's dating a German.'

The curiosity faded from Draco's face, he looked almost disappointed.

'Well then it looks like we have our culprit, honestly Potter, Tori isn't the kind of girl to look for revenge. Could you not be an auror for five minutes?'

'Sorry, it was just something Gin said.'

'Ah weaslette – how is the miserable wench?'

'Fuck off Malfoy, since when did you hate her so much? I know you two don't get on but you've never been that harsh. And if you must know I'm breaking up with her.'

'Oh really? Is that a good idea? I don't suppose she told you about the lovely letter she sent me then, it went along the lines of '_keep your filthy hands of my nice straight boyfriend, or I'll make him stay with me.' _So come on then, see the light did you?'

Harry's green flickering mouth dropped open. He had thought he had said too much when he admitted he was going to break up with her, but he couldn't believe she would do something so conniving.

'I couldn't kiss her. I think she knows, she seems fine. After we talked a bit she calmed down and even laughed a bit so I guess it will be fine. Last weekend she said something to me… I didn't want to believe it but now… I don't know.'

Draco could see that if he wasn't careful Potter would go all bumbling and awkward, but he had to know that this was what he thought it was.

'Oh yeah? Talk some sense for once did she?'

Harry didn't think about the next sentence that came out of his mouth, it just sort of fell out without his permission.

'I think I'm gay.'

Draco's face mirrored Harry's shock, for once in his life – he didn't know what to say.

Chapter six:

Harry was putting up wards around the house that he and Draco would share for the next month, when the blonde himself appeared in the small garden outside. They had taken separate portkeys for security, and the fact that Harry couldn't look at Malfoy's face since their floo call three days ago. He turned his back on the window and finished putting up the wards.

When he turned around, Draco was leaning on the frame of the open back door. His platinum hair was ruffled from the warm breeze, and his pale arms folded across his chest. Harry had never seen him looking so casual, it was with some effort that he managed to stop staring at him and mutter something about wanting a cup of tea. He wandered through to the kitchen, thinking about how the hell he was going to cope with Malfoy for an entire month. They hadn't spoken since the floo call.

Once Harry had gone into the kitchen, Draco sat down on the worn arm chair closest to the door and put his head in his hands. Tomorrow they would be speaking to various German officials, as well as the Aurors from the British ministry who were tracking the movements of several key people. Tomorrow, Draco and Harry could act as nothing but professional colleagues; but what about today? He didn't want to spend the rest of the day in awkward silence, not talking about the fact that the boy that had confused and amazed him for years… he could finally have a chance. It was almost too much. The faint smell of coffee reached Draco, he looked up to find Harry floating a tray with tea and coffee on it towards the low table in the middle of the room.

'I didn't know which you preferred, so I made both.'

He sat down on the equally worn sofa across the room. After a few quiet minutes they both stood up at the same time and reached for a mug, the same one, then laughed awkwardly and ended up just standing there, neither one with the mug.

'I don't see why you need to feel so awkward about this Harry, it doesn't make a difference to me.'

Draco had decided to break the ice, if he could just get Harry to open up a little then maybe he could bring Harry to see that the hate he had put on for so long was exactly that, a mask. The oppressive silence told him it was easier said than done. _Fuck Slytherin caution_ he thought, _I know what I want and I'm going to get it._

'Fine. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, so if you don't want it to be the most awkward month of your life, you'd do well to talk to me – I could really help you figure things out as it were.'

'I have some paperwork to fill out. When I'm done we need to go to the grocery store.'

'Harry please… it really doesn't have to be like this.'

Harry turned and walked slowly out of the room, towards the study. He paused halfway down the corridor, as if to say something, but appeared to change his mind and went into the study, carefully shutting the door behind him.

Draco snorted. _'I think I'm gay.' _ Of course he was bloody gay, if the last two weeks of fifth year and that night… that one night in the room of requirement were anything to go by. A small worm of doubt crept into Draco's mind and nestled at the forefront of his thoughts. _Experimenting_ it whispered _using you, humiliating you_ it cried.

'No.'

Draco got up and paced restlessly. Potter had started it, he had been the one to reach out to him. He had agreed to meet Draco on the corridor where the door would appear. He turned abruptly, stormed down the corridor and burst into the study. He would get his answers whether Potter liked it or not.

'Potter, we're going shopping. Now.'

'I was sure we came down this way on the way there…'

'Oh sodding hell potter remind me to never listen to directions from you.'

They both laughed a bit, still slightly awkward but easier than earlier in the day. They wandered slightly aimlessly now they had established that they were lost in the sprawling town that their house was on the edge of. They walked down a narrow street, and came out in a vibrant square. A stage had been set up at one end, al fresco restaurants formed a border around the edge and fete stalls were scattered across the centre. Draco felt his Slytherin senses tingle.

'Well I'm tired so I'm going to get a coffee and something to eat.'

Just as he knew it would, the thought of food brought no complaint from Harry. A waitress came to take their orders, flashing flirtatious looks at the pair of men. While they waited for their coffee and salads to arrive the band struck up a lively salsa tune; it wasn't long before the colourful square was filled with people dancing. A light breeze kept anyone from getting too sweaty, making the atmosphere relaxed and light.

'Do you dance potter?'

'Didn't you see me at the Yule Ball? I was a disaster in dress robes!'

'You did look rather uncomfortable with Miss Patel, probably from the way you couldn't take your eyes off the Beauxbaton Boys.' Harry laughed freely, Draco could see tonight going better than expected.

'Hermione overheard Pansy Parkinson asking Fleur Delacour if she could set you up with Artur Mont-Pellier. You two could have been twins, blonde, pale and complete arrogant arses.'

'Ouch! You wound me!' Draco rolled his eyes dramatically and clutched his heart in mock horror. They laughed again.

By the time they had finished and paid, the sun was dipping behind the roofs of the houses lining the square, and the band had started playing the odd slow number. It was when Draco heard the opening notes of such a song that he surprised Harry, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a space in the very centre of the square. Draco couldn't hear Harry's protestations, and pretended he couldn't see them either. Grabbing a firm hold the of clumsy dark haired auror, he wrapped one arm around Harry's back, preventing him from escaping.

With a look of amused defeat in his eyes, Harry allowed himself to be drawn into a simple box step, and for the first few minutes of the dance this was how they stayed. Whether it was the relaxed atmosphere being given off by the band, or the other dancers around them Draco didn't know; but he gathered his Malfoy courage – what little there was left of it – and in one smooth motion turned them around and closed the polite space in between them. The shock showed in Harry's face, but he made no move to re-establish that distance, on the contrary he smiled shyly and moved his hand from a tentative grip on Draco's waist to the small of his back, closing what infinitesimal space was left.

The lilting piano and relaxed saxophone gave an easy tune to follow, Draco lead them round in a small circuit with the rest of the dancers, with his forehead resting against Harry's. The slow melody drew to a close, replaced by a more lively one, but the wizards didn't notice. They stayed in their embrace-like position, slowly tilting their heads to the side. Neither one remembers who made the first sweet contact, it seems they both understood what the other wanted. Their lips met for the briefest moment. Then again, very lightly, but for longer. Harry released his grip on Draco's hand to caress the back of his pale, slender neck; Draco let his free hand trace the muscular outline of Harry's shoulders, then down his spine.

Neither of them saw the sky darken, but they felt the strange magic crackle and sprang apart.

'Was that you?' Draco asked.

'No, I can do wandless magic but I can't control the sky! I really don't like this Draco, I know we should avoid apparating to keep our magical signatures as small as possible but we-'

Harry's mouth continued to move soundlessly. His shoulders slumped forward and he collapsed to the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**I've realised that part of CH6 has been published in CH5. Because I am an idiot who cannot read. If its ok, I've decided to leave it as it is, the cliff hanger is an alright one after all. Sorry for the delay in the update, I know I said about a week and it's taken me longer, but here is the new chapter. I promise things will get happier soon! My writing style has changed slightly (or at least I think it has) so reviews and comments will be even more appreciated than normal. Enjoy! **

Chapter 6: Red

Draco looked around him, eyes flashing wildly, shouting for help. He could feel the vibrations of the sound leaving his panicked body, but still he heard nothing. He looked around the square, wondering why no one was helping him, all he could see were the whirling skirts of the women dancing, the flashing lights outlining the stage, and a man. A man who shouldn't, who couldn't, have been there.

Draco woke up sweating. He climbed out of bed and padded through to the kitchen to get a glass of water, then slowly walked down the hall to the room where Harry lay. He still hadn't woken up. Draco probably wouldn't know if he did, his world had turned silent and he hadn't had any contact from the ministry since they were attacked. He hadn't sent an owl, for fear of interception, and he couldn't firecall because he wouldn't be able to hear what the other person was saying. So he was stuck, basically alone, in a foreign country without hearing, and without help. He knew he needed to go shopping for food; he had barely eaten over the last couple of days to try and make the food last longer. Luckily, he had seen the spell the mediwizards used to keep his mother alive when she had refused food, so he was able to keep Harry alive…but for how much longer? He didn't know the extent of the curse that kept him comatose.

He moved from his usual seat beside Harry's bed, a worn kitchen chair he had moved there on the first night, and sat on the edge of the bed. He hadn't noticed how dirty he had let Harry become, there was a thick sheen of sweat covering his face, and his hair had given up its usual battle with gravity, almost sticking to the sides of his face and to the pillow. Without using any magic at all, Draco fetched a bowl of warm water, some soap, and a face cloth.

Fortunately, it didn't take the British ministry long to notice that neither Harry nor Draco had sent any reports back. Unfortunately, salvation came in the clumsy form of Ronald Weasley. After several awkward minutes of strained miming trying to explain his predicament, Draco gave up. He pointed his wand at the wall, and a long stream of golden particles flowed neatly out of the end, forming a paragraph of writing.

'_Harry and I have been struck by unknown curses. He is in a magical coma; I can't get him out of it. I've been keeping him alive with spells, but he's getting weaker. I didn't hear or see anything unusual prior to the attack, but I can tell you who I think it was, I don't know how he came to be there, or how he knew where we were, or what his intentions were, other than to harm Harry… I saw my Father. A while ago Harry told me his signature had been found in Germany, but it was weak enough to indicate he was no longer here. Seems he can mask his magic. _

Ron frowned at the golden lettering, his face steadily becoming an ugly shade of puce.

'Why didn't you send an owl to ministry as soon as you got back here? Or make a portkey? Hell Malfoy, how do I know that you didn't kill Harry yourself and cast a silencio over yourself to look innocent?'

Ron waited for an answer, but Malfoy was looking at him with frustration and contempt. Didn't the idiotic weasel realise from the frustrated miming that he couldn't hear or speak?! With a harsh flick of his wand Draco send another stream of words to float in between them.

'_I can't hear you. I can neither hear nor speak. Luckily I am apt at silent casting, or else Potter would be long dead. You'll have to either write down what you want to say, or cast words like I am. It's the only way I can currently communicate.'_

Ron sighed in frustration and sent his own paragraph back.

'_Show me Harry, and then I'm flooing the both of you to St. Mungoes. I'm going to need proof you didn't do this Ferret.'_

Draco schooled his expression carefully. He couldn't, no wouldn't put Harry at further risk because he couldn't control an undeniable urge to kill his fire-headed best friend. He watched Ron carefully as he gathered Harry into his arms, taking him to St Mungoes in a haze of green flame. Draco couldn't help the direction his thoughts drifted in as he waited for Weasley to return.

What was Harry to him now? Could he really forget all those years of hatred between them, going right back to that handshake that should have been. Unconsciously Draco clutched a pale hand to chest, hovering over an old scar. He stared out of the window, not seeing the small garden to the house, but the hatred in Harry's eyes as he cast the spell that had given him that scar. Could they really have moved past all of that? Unbidden, the tentative kiss they had shared at the festival came to mind. The uncertainty, hesitation on both sides, then sweet bliss. Soft lips caressing his own, a calloused hand on the back of his neck, warm and reassuring.

Malfoy's do not cry, but even so Draco's chest heaved with regret. Just as they had begun to become something more than antagonistic colleagues, they had been torn apart. If he had just… Just what? Stood up to his Father? Been a better child? Draco sighed silently in his bitterness. If only, if only, if only.

Harry stood alone. He didn't know where he was; only that he was safe. As he looked around at his surroundings, he noticed several things. Firstly, he was standing in a corridor; a corridor with no beginning and no end, several different colour doors on either side, and soft carpet. He walked down the corridor and opened a red door at random.

Ginny sat on the floor in the middle of the room. She sat with her head resting on her hands, her long hair obscuring her face from view. Newspaper articles appeared out of nowhere, littering the floor around his ex-girlfriend. She picked one up with a trembling hand and burst into tears, dropped it and began scratching at her face. Harry ran over and tried to pull her hands away from her face, comfort her, stop her from hurting herself; but it was no use. His hands went through her like smoke. There was nothing he could do but watch as Ginny Weasley collapsed onto her side weeping and screaming, scratching at her face as if to tear the pain she felt out of her skin. Finally she fell silent and still. Only then could Harry touch her. She was cold. Frantically he felt for a sign of life and could find none. He ran from the room and threw up. When he looked back, there was a cross burned into the door like Hermione had done in the department of mysteries.

With mounting dread, Harry ran into room after room, only to find people crying, hurting because of him. They all ended up dead because of him. If only he had been more courageous, if only he had not been so selfish, if only he had been quicker in the final battle. After what seemed like an age a new door appeared, one different from all the rest. This door was much smaller; he could only just fit his head and shoulders through the opening. Through this little door he could see a white room, a prone body surrounded by people. He knew he had to get through this door, he could wake the person in the bed up, he knew it! If only he could push himself through this door, he pushed and pushed, feet scraping uselessly against the plush carpet. Giving up, Harry sobbed. He was here! Why couldn't they hear him? He could make everything better, but they would not turn from the body on the bed, would not look towards the little door he was trying so valiantly to get through. He looked at the body again; jet black hair, a scar… It couldn't be. He was here, in a door; but he was there as well. Clearly dying. Harry backed out into the corridor. He ran and ran looking for a solution, but finding none. He ran through the corridors of his own mind, trapped, alone, afraid, desperate for a way back before it was too late.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks for the lovely reviews: Libbeth – I can't PM you but thank you! Sorry this chapter is a bit short, but I felt it was a nice clean place to stop. As always, reviews would be much appreciated, and Enjoy!**

Chapter 7: Grey

FUCK. Batting away the hand of the nervous healer I signal to the insipid creature that she can leave. Malfoy's are not coddled. Having discovered that I have been hit with the Silentium Purum curse the barely competent healers have been attempting to return my communicative faculties to me, a process that it long and painful.

A movement at the door pulls me out of my self-pity, and none other than Neville Longbottom sidles in. Of course I was aware that the man-child was in charge of Mother's care, but his appearance could only mean that there had been some kind of development. I scoffed, it wasn't as though he could inform me our funds were lacking.

Longbottom stood and moved his mouth for quite some time before realising my little problem. What appeared to be an apology flew out of his mouth and then an overly long paragraph begged for my attention.

_Sorry Malfoy, they did tell me about the curse, but I forgot. I've been trying to contact you for days; your Mum has started speaking- nothing coherent, just nonsensical mumbling, but I thought you'd want to know. Even though what she says isn't making sense at the moment we're magically recording everything she says – the odd word comes through that shows promise. I had heard that Harry was working with you, so I tried to contact him too, obviously found out he was here as well. Apparently he pitched a fit and Ron when he wouldn't let you in to see him while he was unconscious! Sorry. Anyway, he's awake and asking for you – they won't let him out of bed yet. Oh and does 'Gladium Patientiae' mean anything to you?_

Gladium Patientiae. The sword of patience. How could she have known? My mind reels as the possibilities of the consequences of anyone finding out the true meaning of this run through my mind… No one can ever know, the pain it would cause Harry to say the least. Numbly, I shake my head. Longbottom looks at me curiously, no longer a hapless Gryffindor it seems. I need to make him go away, I need to think about this properly. I flick my wand to send a glowing reply.

_No. According to Healer McCoy I should be able to hear normally after a session with him this afternoon, if it goes well I will visit Mother afterwards._

I turn away from him, and after a tense few seconds see him exit in my peripheral vision.

Meanwhile on a different ward,

Harry was going to go mental, that is if he hadn't already. He was pretending to be asleep; apparently the cure for being cursed into a magical coma was to spend even more time unconscious – genius! He heard footsteps approaching his bedside and schooled his expression, making certain that no annoyance was visible. He figured it was some nurse coming to run diagnostic spells on him _again_, so he was surprised when he heard the chair next to him creak as someone sat on it. He was considering whether or not to reveal his conscious state when a voice began to speak.

'Merlin Potter, you spend more than a week in a magical coma and you can't even stay awake long enough to thank me for keeping your sorry arse alive?'

Draco's voice faltered slightly, it sounded rusty, as though he hadn't used for a while.

'I wonder what things would have been like if you had accepted my friendship and not that lollygagging ginger's all those years ago. I know I was a little twat, but you didn't exactly help. Or what if we simply hadn't been attacked at that festival we stumbled upon in Germany? Would you have regretted the kiss, told me it could never happen again?' He paused. 'I…Merlin…I want it to happen again. It made everything go away for a minute. No senile Mother, no crazed Father; just you and I. Hell, I'm beginning to sound like a Hufflepuff. This is what happens when you get your voice back after having it taken away from you, you turn into a sappy Hufflepuff. Never let me talk like this when you can actually hear me, I swear on every deity you care to think of I will permanently dye your hair the Slytherin colours and tell the Prophet you did it out of admiration for me.' Another pause. 'Maybe when you're awake tomorrow I'll tell you how I feel. Maybe I'll try and have your courage.'

Draco finally fell silent, and soon Harry heard his footsteps receding as he left, leaving Harry to think about all Draco had said.


End file.
